Running The Gauntlet
by ziggy pop eno
Summary: What do you get when you mix Kel, Neal, two slightly out-of-wack thieves, a sardonic monk and a very confused 8 year old? This story, duh. Please r/r, it's the first fic I've posted! Not a romance, more to come. *chapter 2 added*
1. Being Stubborn

~ Running the Gauntlet ~  
By TheRogue   
  
Author's Note: Thanks a WHOLE lot for reading this! It's the first fic I've posted, and I can't tell you how much it means to a writer when someone takes the time to read their work-even if they didn't like it! And if you review, it makes you doubly special (hint, hint).   
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Well, except for the characters you don't recognize. So I own next to nothing.   
~~~  
  
As Puck walked out of the Dancing Dove, she stood there for a minute, scowling at the sky. Another, gray, dismal day. Just once during the winter, she wished there was a sunny day. Forget it, she thought to herself. Ain't gonna happen. Besides, time to get down to business. She was tall and a bit stocky, wearing plain commoner's clothes with a large battle-axe hanging from her belt. She leaned against the outside wall of the Dancing Dove, looking up and down the street for her partner, Ripley. They were more like partners in crime, even though that sounded extremely cliquey. They both were followers of The Rogue, the King of Thieves for all of Tortall. They did his bidding, and by profession were thieves, spies, fighters, and strong-arms. Puck and Ripley loved being on the questionable side of the law, and were basic, loyal followers of their 'King'. Some considered it odd how the Court of the Rogue considered the King of Thieves their real leader, thought him above all including the actual King of Tortall, King Jonathan.   
"Hey, Screwtape!" came Ripley's familiar voice behind her. She spun to face him, an annoyed expression on her face.   
"How many times have I told ya not to call me by my last name?" she said exasperated but good-natured.   
"Too many, lass, but ye know I just love to tease ya," he replied with a grin and an extra burr in his northern-Tortall accent. Her partner was an interesting contrast to her. He was short and lithe, with an artist's hands and messy dark red hair.   
Puck rolled her eyes and ran a hand through her short brown hair. "It's not my fault that I have the most doffed named in Corus. Whoever choose my name at the Royal Records Archive musta been ale-happy the night afore. Anyhow, what's our assignment for the day?"   
"Ta-day we are doing some spying an' some breaking-an'-entering. His Lawd-ship wants us to rifle through the cart of an artisan that sell magic goods and whatnot," Ripley answered, glancing over the street crowded with tradesmen and their wares and buyers haggling with the tradesmen.  
"What's his name?"  
"I believe it is Pan Traffik. Or something equally as doffed."  
"Oh, I know where that is. C'mere, it's this way," and Puck set off down the street, dodging the crowd, with Ripley in tow.   
~~~  
  
"But I don't want to come!" Kel complained to her friend Neal. She was flopped down on her bed and he was standing with his arms crossed, looking amused.   
"A little fresh air will do you good. Much more then being stuck in this stuffy room for another day can do, and we both have an afternoon off, anyways" he replied practically.   
"I am not going anywhere! I've been stuck here for two days coughing up flem! I feel horrid!" she protested louder, crossing her arms as well.   
"Aw, poor pookie," Neal said with fake pity. Kel groaned.   
"I hate it when you say that," she grumbled, burrowing deeper into her bed.   
"Poor pookie," Neal yelled loader this time, grinning.  
"Fine!" Kel surrendered, flinging her covers off and across the room.  
"That's my girl," Neal said, giving her a hand up. "It'll be good for you. Get some of that air in your lungs that Wyldon always says is so good for us. Besides, I only want to pick some healing materials up at Pan Traffik's cart."  
~~~  
  
To be continued, soon. Please r/r!   
  
  



	2. An Odd Meeting

~ Running The Gauntlet ~  
By TheRogue  
  
Chapter Two  
  
A/N: Much thanks to those who reviewed!   
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except for the characters you don't recognize. So I own next to nothing.   
~~~  
  
Puck was good at picking locks; it was one of her specialties. But the lock she was working while crouching silently at the back of Pan Traffik's cart was especially stubborn. She had been picking at the lock for ten minutes now, and nothing but nothing had come of it. Ripley was getting restless, as was Puck herself, since they both knew Pan could get back from his lunch break at any time.   
  
"C'mon Puck! At this rate ya'll leave us with no time ta fiddle around inside, once ya get the thing open!" Ripley hissed in her ear. She didn't respond, just kept working at lock as if he hadn't said anything. She scrunched up her face as she gave the sturdy wire she had wedged in the lock a final twist, and the lock popped open.   
  
"Well, thanks for getting that done so quickly and efficiently," Ripley said sarcastically, pulling open one of the two large wooden doors that made up the backside of the cart.  
  
"At least I got it open, okay? Not like you could do any better, Mr. I-never-bothered-to-learn-to-pick-locks," Puck snarled back. "Now, what're we looking for?"   
  
"His Highness says ta look through Pan's papers and see if he's got some, er, lettahs from this certain lass." As they both stepped into the cart, Ripley was amazed at how much, well, stuff that had been packed into the back compartment of an ordinary enclosed cart. In the corner nearest his right was a small bed with nicely folded linens, across the compartment was a writing desk and next to it was a large leather-covered trunk. And all over the walls were shelves stuffed with all sorts of magical objects: books, scrying stones, mirrors, plants and ingredients, magicked boxes and wallets, even a complete set of silverware.   
  
"Hold on," Puck interrupted. "Whaddya mean 'letters from a certain lass'? This isn't one of the Rogue's personal assignments, is it?"   
  
Ripley shifted uneasily. "Um, actually, it 'tis. He didn't want me to tell ye, lassie, but his Lawd-ship has been after this gal and he has reason to believe Pan's got her already, so the Rogue just wants ta be sure afore he bumps Pan off..."   
  
"I must be the only one in the entire court who thinks it's wrong for the King to use us as his little servants in his personal life. Can he not go and ask Pan himself?" Puck said, angrily.   
  
"It's not up ta us ta question th' King's commands. The woman's name is Josephine Whipple. Go through the papers on that desk and she ya see her name," Ripley told his partner, trying to sound in charge, but really feeling insecure.   
~~~  
  
Neal leaned into the open front of a cart with a bold sign above it proclaiming 'Pan Traffik: Quality Magical Stores and Supplies'. He scanned the open front over, looking for the owner, whom he knew from making many trips there for his dad, the castle's healer.  
  
"Looks like he's not here. Maybe he's in the back," Neal said to Kel, who wasn't listening but rather coughing up a fit.   
  
"Isn't it a bit rude to go poking through someone's who may not be home's cart?" Kel asked when her coughing subsided.   
  
"Nonsense. Pan wouldn't mind, I know him well enough. And if he is back there, he'll be happy that he got a customer that otherwise would've walked away," Neal said walking to that back of the cart with Kel. He saw the door was open, and proceeded to walk inside.   
  
The scene that greeted the two squires was extremely unexpected. Two people, a bit older then Kel were standing over a desk covered in papers, and reading them. The girl, who was tall with dark brown hair shorter then Kel's was holding a large lock (that belonged to the outside door, Kel presumed) in one hand, and had been lazily spinning it around when Neal and Kel had came in. The girl reacted to her first instinct (probably not the best one), dropped the papers in her hands and flung the lock at the two newcomers.   
  
It hit Kel square in the stomach, and shouldn't have hurt after going through all the physical training as a page. But because she had been in bed for a while she was out of shape, and Kel fell to the floor coughing and hacking. The boy who had been standing over the desk ran over to Kel who was crumpled in a fetal position and now retching all over the floor of the cart.  
  
"Oh Minthros, I'm sorry lass, she didn't mean it, reaction ya see..." he trailed off as he kneeled next to Neal and the unhappy Kel. The girl who had thrown the lock ran over, too.   
  
"I'm Puck and this is Ripley. We'll tell you what's going on later, but first we gotta do something about her," she said, indicating Kel.   
  
"I'm Neal. I'm a healer, but not a very good one since I never got trained. I'm more apt with flesh wounds, so really there isn't much I can do," said Neal, the boy the hurt girl had come in with.   
  
"I guess we should bring her to a healer, then. It isn't that bad, I don't think, but you never know," Puck said.   
  
"I can just take her back to the palace healer-," Neal began, but Ripley cut him off.   
  
"Nah, the Temple of Gainel th' Dream King is justa few blocks away. There are some monks there that do good healing work an' it's free o' charge. Trust me, I've taken advantage of it many-a-time."   
~~~  
  
Fuzzy squirmed uncomfortably in his hard, wooden chair. He was supposed to have been listening to Father Julius, who was trying to teach him his letters. Fuzzy was eight years old already and still couldn't read, because he simply didn't want to learn. That why he was at the temple/monastery in the first place: his parents had given up on trying to teach and discipline him, and thought the monks might do better. Father Julius had been teaching Fuzzy for a year now, and there was no improvement still.   
  
The thin monk scowled at the boy sitting in the chair opposite his, and snapped his fingers under the boy's nose to jog him back to reality.   
  
"Where did you go Fuzzy? Obviously you weren't here in the stonewalled library of the monastery, or you would be telling me all sorts of praise about the letter 'J' by now," Julius said, stroking his salt-and-pepper goatee and glaring at Fuzzy. The boy blankly looked at him, and then tried to run a hand through his blond, crew cut hair.   
  
"I was at the clothing store down the street, I s'pose. I was thinking of how keen it'd be to have to jot wear itchy, hot habits all day," Fuzzy replied with a small lisp. Just then, another short, portly monk came tottering into the library and up to Julius and Fuzzy. Julius sighed inwardly, glad to not have to address the last comment Fuzzy had made.   
  
"Father Julius?" the monk asked timidly, folding his hands.   
  
"Yes, Brother Matthias? Is it the cat again?" answered Julius.   
  
"No, not the cat this time. There is a party of commoners asking for your healing," the portly monk said, sounding even more timid.   
  
"Yes, Matthias, I'm sure they asked for my healing specifically," Julius sighed again. "I'm willing to bet it's another one of those squires from the castle came down to the market for the day and somehow managed to cut off a hand or end up throwing up all over the place. Come along, Fuzzy." Father Julius then grabbed his student's wrist and trudged off towards the front foyer, leaving Brother Matthias sputtering and confused.   
~~~  
  
Thanks again for reading this, guys! More to come!  
  
  
  



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